"Enemy signals are showing anomalies. Large numbers of troops are massing at the front line, should include that batch of main battle tanks that just airdropped in."
But Colonel Hardlin, who was reporting the situation, was no longer the overall commander. Havana had sent over a self-styled general-level officer, with a bunch of military consultants of mysterious origin in tow, all strutting around with their noses in the air, not even bothering to look anyone else in the eye.
The one in the lead was even wearing a gold-trimd tailcoat, clearly the finest hand-spun wool, and had brought along several pretty maids.
Hard to tell if he was here to fight a war or go on vacation.
Though anyone with eyes could tell where he was from. Aside from Europeans, nobody else strutted around like this, acting like hot shit.
Ever since the end of the Fourth Corporate War, there hadn’t been any large-scale military conflicts anywhere in the world. Who knew where their confidence was coming from.
"Enough, everything you just said, I already know. Letting a ragtag band of rcenaries turn the war into this sorry ss—what the hell are you people even good for?"
The blond consultant in the lead waved a hand, signaling him to shut up, then had the maid accompanying him pour a glass of champagne and present it to him on her knees.
He took a sip and said lazily,
"You even managed to let them shoot down planes from the sky with tanks. Your air force is a bunch of useless trash too."
His words made the consultants behind him cover their mouths and snicker, giving the Cubans absolutely no face. Every Soldier in the command post lowered their head.
Because, to be fair, this was one hell of an embarrassnt.
Major General Ron coughed to break the awkward silence, then said to the military consultants,
"Their individual combat skills are indeed decent, and they’re slippery as hell—you just can’t pin them down. That’s why we asked you to step in. I wonder what good suggestions you gentlen might have?"
Consultant in na, in practice they were the ones with their hands on the controls.
Even Havana was a puppet organization, let alone the army under it.
Flattered, the white consultant, Kant Lancaster, was feeling very pleased with himself.
"We’ve already dug up their entire equipnt list. Based on signals gathered by satellites, they’re planning to mass all their armored assets and launch a focused assault on your defensive line. Not exactly idiots."
"But their tactics are already laid bare to us. They just cycle through the sa few tricks—feint in the east, hit in the west, two-pronged assaults. Whatever they’re thinking, we can see through it at a glance."
He tapped his finger on the table while plugging his data cable into the central holo-map. On the projection of a defensive line stretching dozens of kiloters, both friendly and enemy deploynts were already marked.
From Lancaster’s point of view, your troop numbers and equipnt were completely transparent in front of him. What suspense could there possibly be in this battle?
Even if the enemy had so tricks, they’d be useless in the face of absolute superiority.
As a flood of data uploaded, nurous military symbols popped up on the map. He grabbed them with one hand and dragged them to both flanks of the friendly defensive line.
"According to intel from satellites, drones, and radar, they’ll most likely split into two attack axes. Their strategic objective is Da Haguai behind your defensive line."
Attacking a big city like that as a strategic target was basically guaranteed. Otherwise, why co all the way to Cuba?
For fun?
"One side will be the main thrust, the other will support and provide covering fire. As for which side is the main, don’t blindly trust radar signals. I have to admit, these guys have so chops in electronic warfare. But without a doubt, the main axis will have elite infantry charging at the very front—that is, the Hell Diver unit you saw—with an armored group right behind them.
Their armored strength is limited, so the width of their assault front won’t exceed three kiloters. It’ll be easy to spot. Just keep an eye out when the ti cos."
"Judging from your previous engagents, they’ll definitely try to engineer local superiority again, sa as in your earlier defeats. So the oblique order is their most effective tactic—keep your reserve forces mobile, ready to reinforce at any mont. Also, push all your drones up to the front for continuous recon. Don’t let any stragglers slip through."
Lancaster didn’t believe a small fry like Horizon Corporation had any real talent. Being a bit ahead of spec technologically was one thing, but the people actually directing their military moves were definitely from Military Technology.
So this battle was really European Community vs. Military Technology. Horizon Corporation attacking Cuba was just a proxy war.
Once he wrapped this up and returned in triumph to Europe, he’d have plenty of stories to tell at banquets.
Lancaster’s idol was none other than the historically renowned Emperor Napoleon.
To that end, he’d studied a bunch of classic engagents from the Cold War and Corporate Wars, and even graduated from a military academy. It was just a pity he’d never had the chance to actually put theory into practice.
"Hmph, your network work is decent, but you picked the wrong enemy. Ti for to teach you country bumpkins how to fight a real war."
————
Compared to when they had first arrived in Cuba, running around the map on two legs, the players—now flush with massive military aid—could finally ride the chanized east wind.
A batch of freshly produced 4x4 all-terrain vehicles modeled after the Lynx had been thrown into this hastily cobbled-together combined battalion, and they were experintal hybrid gas-electric to boot.
Sitting inside one of the ATVs, a buddy scratched his forehead and grumbled,
"They’ve scattered the unit so wide, it feels like we’ve lost all montum. I was planning to shoot a video for Super Earth recruitnt propaganda."
The full-army offensive he’d imagined, a steel tide rolling across the entire map, simply didn’t exist.
The spacing between squads was several hundred ters. With just a little rise in the terrain, you’d lose sight of your own allies if you didn’t check the minimap.
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